


feathers in the heavy rain

by softsocky



Series: socky shorts [5]
Category: ASTRO (Band)
Genre: Band Fic, Fluff, M/M, first kiss fic kinda again by e, i honestly dont know why they're watching the olympics in this, i lvoe my country i swear, i trash talk the australian opening ceremony uniform for one line, short and little and sweet, the boys play truth or dare and minhyuk is angsty and hates it
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-12-01
Updated: 2017-12-01
Packaged: 2019-02-09 03:59:20
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,347
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12879720
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/softsocky/pseuds/softsocky
Summary: There's a game of truth or dare followed by a moment where Minhyuk realises he's messed up.





	feathers in the heavy rain

**Author's Note:**

> Title from The Talbott Brothers 'We Got Love' - Give a listen to it [here!](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=eSNc7bXpIHQ)

It was an accident more than anything. Bin hadn’t meant it, Minhyuk was sure, but with the look of absolute betrayal that hid itself poorly on Sanha’s face, he realised that maybe it hadn’t been quite so obvious. They were stupidly playing truth or dare, something Minhyuk himself hadn’t partaken in since he was thirteen years old, and for good reason. The game led only to embarrassment and arguments, something Minhyuk wanted to put behind him – the people around him knew enough humiliating things about him already, they didn’t need to know anything _more._ But, alas, there he sat on the floor, back leaning against the armchair that Eunwoo was sitting in. It was nearing one am, and they had piled into the lounge room to watch the live-showing of the Olympics opening ceremony, though now it played – forgotten – in the background. Occasionally, though, he’d glance to the screen to see another country waving to the cameras, and he’d get distracted from the chaos around him.

He was watching Australia file in now, wearing gaudy pinstripes and dark green, something that reminded him far too much of a school uniform he’d seen somewhere in Seoul. His vision was obscured by a hand waving in front of his face repetitively – Eunwoo.

“It’s your turn, Rocko!”

Minhyuk sighed, long and deep, and entirely over-exaggerated. He moved his eyes over to Bin, who was wiggling his brows at him, smirk wide and teasing. “Truth or dare, ‘Hyuk?”

He didn’t smile back at the grinning boy in front of him, he didn’t want to play into his games. His eyes flashed for just a second to Sanha beside Bin, who was watching him with a grin almost as wide as the waving Olympians on the screen.

“Truth,” he mumbled. He didn’t want to be _that guy_ who only ever chose truth, but he refused to run anywhere naked, or eat questionable food off any part of anyone’s body – so truth he chose, and would always chose if his bandmates were ever involved.

Bin groaned, shaking his head. Bin knew him well enough to know that he’d never chose dare, but even after all this time, he acted disappointed by it. Minhyuk felt his face falter when he saw a wicked grin on Bin’s face. “Who was your first kiss, _and_ what was it like?” He was about to retort when Bin held up his finger, cutting him off. “I get to ask two questions because you’ve chosen truth _again_ , so suck it up, Swag boy.”

 _Christ,_ he thought. Bin already knew the answer to this question, and he wishes he could pretend like he didn’t know why he was asking. But Minhyuk knew why. Bin was stupid and petty and liked to tease him to no end, and this was just the cherry on top. _This_ was the ultimate method of torture, because if he _lied,_ Bin would call him out on it. Maybe not right now, later, when they were alone – but then _again_ , if he told the truth, the teasing would be relentless for the rest of time. But _if he lied_ , Sanha would—

It was a risk he had to take for his own sanity, of sorts, and perhaps, even for Sanha’s.

“Just some girl,” he said, passing it off as though it were nothing with a shrug. “Mediocre at best.” He watched Bin’s eyes narrow, just a sliver; though not enough for the others to question the sincerity of Minhyuk’s words, but enough for him to feel slightly guilty. His eyes shifted past Bin’s shoulder, to where Sanha sat.

Sanha was quite obviously _tall_ – but it wasn’t just his height that made him _big._ He took up space with his gangly legs and arms, but also with the way he held himself, the way his personality resonated and extended itself onto everyone around him. Right now, though, Minhyuk doesn’t think he’s ever seen Sanha look so _small._

His face was unbearably betrayed, his eyes watering a little, and Minhyuk realised he’d messed up. He should have said the _truth_ like the question implies, instead of dancing around it with a silly little lie. Minhyuk had never kissed a girl in his life, though yes, he had wanted to – the entire idea of kissing a girl, or anyone for that matter, completely disappeared from his train of thought when Sanha joined Fantagio. He’d been enraptured with the boy the moment he set eyes on him, saw the way his awkward body smoothened out into acts of beautiful coordination that left Minhyuk feeling proud and extremely impressed. During their predebut days, when training was strict and methodical and so overwhelming that he cried more than he’d ever had before, it made sense that one day, he came to the training room for extra practice, only to find Sanha already there.

The boy was gifted, to say the least. Something about his entire look with his singing and dancing abilities was outrageously ethereal, and Minhyuk couldn’t help but think Yoon Sanha had been sent from heaven as his guardian angel. Some days, like this day in the training room, Minhyuk had actually felt as though the roles had been reversed. Sanha was leaning against the wall-length mirror, knees tucked up under his chin. He was crying, much like Minhyuk was ready to, and seeing him this way nearly brought him to his fall.

Minhyuk clearly remembers sitting down beside him, and not really knowing what else to do other than taking the hand closest to him off the younger boy’s knee, so he could lace it with his own. Sanha had sniffled at that, turning his head curiously to the boy. They were friends, that much was for sure, even best friends, if you were to ask Minhyuk now knowing what he knows. There was a bond of trust there, often left unspoken, but it was mutual and respected and Minhyuk had just _broken it_ because he was too embarrassed to admit to his bandmates that Sanha had been his first kiss. Right there, in the training room, years before _right now._ The way Sanha had looked at him with his saddened big eyes made Minhyuk act irrationally. He didn’t even hesitate. He’d just leant forward, not really sure what to do or how to do it, and pressed his lips against Sanha’s. It was just two sets of lips pressing against each other; looking back now, Minhyuk knows it was awkward and incredibly inexperienced, and there had been no technique – no _time_ for technique, because Sanha had pulled away from his so fast he wasn’t sure it had actually happened.

Sanha was severely embarrassed, crying for a whole new reason. Minhyuk had reassured him though that he _liked_ him. Minhyuk had a crush on Sanha, and ever since that kiss in the training room, there had been something between them. They weren’t together, per se; they had never kissed since. Though, that being said, Minhyuk never looked for anyone in the crowd, never saw interest in anyone, even if the boys later told him they had been flirting with him. Sanha was the same, too, almost as though they had both given their hearts to the other, but just didn’t know how to kick start them again.

And now here he was, sitting on the floor watching the bloody Olympic opening ceremony, playing truth or dare – and he’d just blown his chances with the boy he loved most.

Sanha had said nothing, and MJ was asking Jin Jin the same question Bin had asked him, could vaguely make out jin Jin saying _dare_ somewhere in between the fog in his mind. Sanha had had enough apparently, because he pushed himself off the floor without so much a glance in Minhyuk’s direction, muttered out an empty _good night_ and was gone. He couldn’t help but wince as he heard the bedroom door slam behind Sanha’s retreating figure, knowing he was the reason for it, he was the reason Sanha was upset.

Minhyuk knew to give him space. He knew Sanha well enough to know that when he was in a foul mood, or was just generally upset, giving him a few hours to cool off was the best option. But Minhyuk didn’t want Sanha going to sleep angry or upset with him; the entire idea of the boy dreaming bad things was enough to make him panic. He managed to wait fifteen minutes before going to talk to him. In that space of time, Minhyuk had stopped playing, and focused on the ceremony on the TV. He wasn’t paying attention, though; merely just watching the colours float along the screen while his mind sprinted through a marathon. He was beginning to itch from the inside out, but sitting there wasn’t alleviating the pain. Talking to Sanha would.  

He closed the door to the lounge room as he made his way to the hallway, to deter the sound travelling. Minhyuk hesitated before knocking on the door, but when he did, he was met with silence. He waited a moment before knocking again, calling out gently, “Sanha?”

Again, silence.

There was a good chance Sanha was already asleep. Though a slight sleeper, he could fall asleep quickly and suddenly, and without any warning. Car rides were usually the worst, the lull of the wheels putting him to sleep against Minhyuk’s shoulder (but he didn’t mind, even when he pretended that it bothered him). God, he wishes he had told Sanha all of this. The little everyday things that make life so much easier and better and _nicer_ because Sanha had a way of bringing magic everywhere he went.

He knocked a third time, called out the boy’s name a bit louder. He pressed his ear to the door, hoping to catch any noise at all – but alas, silence followed.

He sighed, letting his body sink to the floor, back against the door. His head leant against it, his eyes stuck on the ceiling, and he contemplated what to do next when he found himself starting to ramble. This early in the morning, Minhyuk would often find himself feeling a little drunk – though, he didn’t know what that felt like yet, had just seen enough of it with Jin Jin and in movies to know the basics.

He knew there were crazy drunks and happy drunks and everything in between, and right now Minhyuk felt like a sad drunk. His head was spinning and his tongue was yapping out stupid confessions like “ _you’re the most important person to me”_ and “ _Christ, you’re my best friend, but you’re so much more, too_ ” and “ _I don’t know how to live without you_ ” and each thing he said was met with repetitive silence, but at this stage, Minhyuk didn’t care. All he cared about was getting the words out, even if it meant repeating them to Sanha in the morning when he was awake.

“Sanha,” he said again, banging his head a little louder than intended on the door. “Sanha I didn’t mean it. I really didn’t mean it, you gotta believe me.” He hung his head in his hands now, shaking it in his palms.

“You were my first kiss. I know that. You know that. It was awkward and shaky and it was so perfect I don’t know why I denied.” Minhyuk snorted humorously. “Yes, I do. I know why. I was terrified of how the boys would react, the teasing that’d come after. I could handle it, but I didn’t know if you wanted them to _know_.”

He groaned into his hands now, rubbing them down his face, as if it wake himself up from this nightmare. “I want you to know—dammit, I don’t _know_ what I want you to know. All I know is that I love _you_ Sanha, not just as my best friend, but as a boyfriend would.” He paused, sweating a little anxiously, heart hammering in his ears. “That is, if you’ll have me.”

He sat there for a few seconds longer, before giving in to the idea of Sanha being asleep. He was about to turn to leave, go back to his spot on the floor, when the door suddenly opened and a small hand darted out from the darkness. It grasped tightly at his shirt collar, and yanked him inside, door slamming behind him. One minute, he was close to crying alone in the hallway, and in the next, Sanha had him pushed on his bed, arms wrapped around him as though Minhyuk were the one needing comforting.

“I thought you were asleep?” He mumbled out, flustered and red-cheeked in the dark room. His eyes may have been playing tricks on him, but he was so sure he could see Sanha’s radiance and beauty even in this lighting.

He felt the younger boy shake his head, dragging Minhyuk closer to him, so that Sanha was the big spoon for once. The position felt strange at first, out of place, but he sunk into the arms of the boy that had been his for so long, the boy he hoped would take him back, keep him there forever.

 

In the earliest hours of the morning, Minhyuk allowed Sanha to hold him, to fall asleep with his nose pressed into his hair, as if to reacquaint himself with his scent after being apart for a whole thirty minutes. When morning light broke, MJ and Jin Jin were sleeping in their respective beds, and Minhyuk blushes at the knowledge that they had seen them cuddled up together when they went to bed. He blushes not because he was embarrassed they had seen, or embarrassed of Sanha – he was blushing because he felt this exorbitant swell of pride in his chest. Minhyuk shifted, slipping out of Sanha’s arms, and stirring the younger boy awake. His eyes were sleepy and droopy and a little bit crusty in the corners, but when he leant forward to kiss Minhyuk good morning, he was so sure he had never seen anything quite so beautiful.

**Author's Note:**

> come say hello to me @ [softsocky](http://softsocky.tumblr.com/)


End file.
